The Unchosen
by Neoalfa
Summary: Being the eldest brother to the Boy-Who lived can be a major hassle, especially if you are trying not be be just that. This is the story of those who hadn't been picked up by Fate. This is a story about defiance. This is the story of the Unchosen.
1. On my way

**Chapter 1 – On my way**

* * *

The raven haired boy was sitting alone in the train compartment, looking at the passing scenery, culled by the rhythmic motion of the Hogwarts Express. It was his first day to Hogwarts, his first day away from his parents, his first day away from his brother.

He should have felt a little homesick, perhaps excited but a little scared of being by himself. Useless to say he wasn't. Although he felt excited to finally being sent to the fabled school of wonders, the dominating feeling was elation and a newfound sense of freedom.

Who could blame him? Being the eldest brother to the Boy-Who-Lived wasn't only a big responsibility and a burden at times , but it came with the curse of being overshadowed on a principle.

He didn't hate his brother Alex, how could he? The events of that accursed Halloween weren't his choice and he actually pitied him for his hyphenated title.

He didn't hate his parents either. He understood that having a celebrity for a son was no small task, especially if you tried, and succeeded, in raising said child like a decent human being instead of a ego-inflated brat with delusions of grandeur. No, no, their parents did their very best to provide a loving family for the both of them, but the fact remained that having the Boy-Who-Lived as a relative was an handful, and as such, the youngest boy had always been the center of the attention whether inside their home or in the rest of the world.

It wasn't a big thing. The few instances where his parents had… failed is too much of a big word… stumbled where he was concerned were completely justifiable and not such a big deal to begin with. A few missed birthdays, for which their parents apologized profusely afterwards, were the most noticeable instances of his situation. The last time it had happened, the previous year, his mother actually broke down crying calling herself a failure for forgetting his son's birthday again. It took him almost half an hour to calm her down. Half an hour she spent hugging him and being hugged back. In the boy's opinion those thirty minutes dedicated to him alone were the greatest gift ever. Afterwards he felt ashamed that his mother's tears made him feel good, but he couldn't avoid the warm feeling that spread through his chest when she hugged him fiercely and told him she loved him.

His father wasn't much different even if he showed less hurt at his forgetfulness it was clear in his eyes that he actually felt sorry for failing his son.

The boy accepted their apologies and dismissed their fear of being awful parents telling them he understood completely the burden they carried between their jobs and the media circus rotating around his brother.

Even if the Potter were an Ancient and Noble House, which meant they had vaults full of gold, neither James nor Lily were the kind of persons to sit back and enjoy their lives, not when the world that had produced Voldemort and his Death Eaters was still ruled by the same people as before, but that only meant that they had less and less time for their eldest son, and while the boy's precocious brain understood all the reasons behind his plight, his heart still yearned for love and attention.

He had been the greatest big brother a child could hope to have and that was exactly the crux of the matter. He was the Boy-Who-Lived's brother and just that in the eye of the world. His fate was to live in his shadow, unmentioned in the pages of history, forgotten to the sands of time; at best he was to be a secondary character, someone that everybody would forget as soon as the page was turned.

Harry James Potter had only one opinion on the matter, that could be resumed dryly as '_Fuck that.'_

The door was suddenly pulled open and a witch with red curly hair entered dragging a trunk behind her.

"Hi. Can I sit here?" the girls asked. "I'm trying to hide from an annoying friend of mine. To you mind sharing your compartment with me?"

"Not at all. Make yourself comfortable. Need an hand with your luggage?"

Without waiting for an answer Harry helped the girl putting her trunk in the space above her seat.

"Thank you. I'm Stephanie Chambers by the way," the girls said offering her hand.

"Harry Potter, pleased to meet you Stephanie," he shook her hand.

"Likewise. Harry Potter you said. Any relation to the Boy-Who-Lived?"

Harry held back a sigh . "I'm his older brother if you really want to know," he said without letting the annoyance drip in his voice.

"Oh. I didn't know he had a brother." The girl said surprised.

"It's not common knowledge these days. Not all the Potters managed to reach the spotlight in one single night. I'm still working on my own fame," he said good-naturedly. The girl laughed in response.

"I suppose that's true. Not everybody gets famous at fifteen months for vanquishing a Dark Lord." A moment o silence passed between them as the girl thought that asking him about his famous brother wasn't something the boy would want to talk about. "So, Hogwarts," she exclaimed. "What House do you think you'll be in?"

Glad for the considerate and obvious change of topic Harry was more than happy to engage in meaningless and frivolous conversation.

"I don't have anything against any House since I think I have some traits from all. I'm somewhat a bookworm though so I think Ravenclaw is the most probable outcome," he explained with a smile.

"I think I'll be in Slytherin," Stephanie said, "just like mom was. Dad was a Hufflepuff but everybody said I've taken everything from mom, and I agree."

"So… ambitious and cunning with a taste for politics?"

"You forgot evil and with a plan to rule Britain from the shadows, or you don't endorse the belief that all Slytherins are Dark?" she asked. Harry scoffed at the idea.

"Like I'll believe any of that nonsense. Granted most Dark Wizards and Witches came from the House of Snakes but that's a given since ambition is the most common trait among them. However Dark Wizards are a minority of the population and there have been Death Eaters from every House in the past war. Barty Couch Jr. for instance came from Hufflepuff and Peter Pettigrew was from Gryffindor."

"Yes, that's true. It's good to finally meet someone so open-minded. I was starting to fear that I wouldn't have any friend outside my House," she said honestly.

"Aren't you worrying a little too soon?" Harry asked. "You still have to be sorted. There is no guarantee that you'll end up in Slytherin before the sorting."

"Nah. I know myself well enough. I always think how I can get an advantage out of any situation, even if don't do anything to actually get something from it. It's just the way I'm wired, you know?"

"And honest too, I'd say," Harry answered, noticing how she just used a Muggle expression. So, either one of her parents was a Muggleborn or they meddled with the other side often enough to pick up a few traits. He didn't tell her but he too had the same analytical mindset. "Definitely no Death Eater material. Let me guess… Pureblood mother and Muggleborn or Half-blood father."

"H-how do you know?" the girl asked befuddled.

"Told ya I've got traits from all Houses. You just said wired. We don't wire anything in the Wizarding World. It's a Muggle expression," he explained.

"Wow. But I could have been that we have connection with the Muggle World and I picked up the line somewhere there," she pointed out. Harry shrugged in response.

"Hmm. Hufflepuff has the high ratio of Muggleborns in Hogwarts since ever and magical children are rarely brought outside of the Wizarding World before they get a wand in case a burst of accidental magic breaks the Stature of Secrecy. It seems difficult that your parents might have passed that particular word to you in that context if none of them was from the Muggle side."

"And you know all of this, how?"

"Bookworm, remember? Information is power and it serves my ambitions well to know about everything."

"Oh? And what are your ambitions Mr. Potter?" she asked playfully. She actually liked the exchange, the boy wasn't as thick as the other males in her age group and he hadn't mentioned Quidditch yet. Merlin forbid, had she actually met a male worth befriending?

"Telling would only ruin the surprise. You'll have to find out when everybody else does."

"Awww? Pretty please?" she asked making the biggest puppy expression she could muster. Harry just laughed at that.

"I'm sorry, that's not going to work."

She moved to the seat beside him and locked her arms with his trying the womanly approach.

"Pleeease?" she cooed in his ears . Again Harry just laughed at her antics. The girl had some guts if she pulled that kind of move on someone she had just met.

"Sorry again, I haven't hit that stage yet, so womanly vile won't work on me either. You might want to try that again in a couple of years."

She was about to make a witty remark when the door was opened again this time by a blond haired boy. The awkwardness of the situation they have been found into granted five seconds of undisturbed silence among them, exactly the time it took for the newcomer's jaw to slowly open to its full extension while his brown eyes filled themselves with unshed tears. Said tears burst from their container as the boy fell to his knees, holding his crying face, wailing desperately.

"NO-OOOOOOHHH," he cried at the top of his lungs. "STEPHIE HAS BEEN SNATCHED AWAY AND WE AREN'T EVEN AT HOGWARTS YET. NOOOO-OOHH!"

"Archibald," Stephanie tried calling the boy as she untangled herself from Harry's arm. "Archibald!" She tried again to no avail. The boy just kept crying his heart out while the other students began looking out of their compartments to see who was crying and why. "ARCHIE!" she finally screamed getting a reaction out of him. The boy head snapped up to meet her gaze with a dazed expression. Suddenly he jumped back on his feet and rushed to embrace the girl.

"OOOOH! STEPHIE, YOU RETURN TO ME. YOU FINALLY REALIZE THE DEPTHS OF MY LOVE FOR YOU AND CAME BACK Ghrrkkkk…" Archibald's tirade died in his throat with a strangled sound. It took Harry a second to realize that Stephanie had kneed the other boy in the groin with enough strength to make his eyes roll in the back of his head. Reflexively Harry closed his legs trying to suppress the sudden shiver of emphatic pain that most males feel when witnessing someone of the same gender suffer that kind of injury.

Archibald fell to the ground, stiff as a board, in the same exact position as he was while he hugged Stephanie. He could have passed for petrified if not for the foam forming at the corner of his mouth. To Harry the scene was both horrific and amusing at the same time. Such emotions, so far apart from each other, left him dumbfounded and without any idea of how to react. In his youthful mind staying out of their business and watch the situation unfold was the best course of action he could imagine at the time. Little did he know that he had just spared himself a world of pain.

"I'm getting tired of your antics Archie," the girl said rubbing her temple. "Why won't you understand and just give up?"

"My love… argh… My love for you won't falter just because of a little pain," the boy declared in a suspiciously falsetto voice as he stood up.

"I know," Stephanie sighed exasperated. "We wouldn't be here talking about it if that was the case. Now come inside and close the door. We have given enough of a show already."

"Yes, my darling~" Archibald singsonged seemingly unfazed by his previous injuries. Harry thought that perhaps the boy was used to that kind of treatment seeing how familiar he was with the girl.

"Harry, I have the displeasure of introducing you my childhood friend and nightmare Archibald Rowles . Archibald, this is Harry Potter."

"Pleased to meet you," Harry said as he shook his hand.

"Likewise, " Archie replied with a smile, "I'm going to kill you if you make a move on Stephanie, got it?" He added in a whisper as he began to squeeze Harry's hand tighter to enforce his threat.

Not one to step back from a challenge, Harry smiled back while he reciprocated the gesture with more force than his skinny frame suggested he could muster. Soon enough Archibald's expression faltered in a strained mockery of his previous smile and a thick sweat drop formed on his forehead. His hand made a suspiciously cracking sound as he tried to wriggle his appendage out of Harry's death grip.

"Boys… behave," Stephanie admonished. Harry released his grips feigning ignorance.

"I don't know what you're talking about Stephanie. Archie and me were just introducing each other."

"Riiiight," she drawled as she watched Archie massaging his abused hand, not that she felt any sympathy for him.

"So is this the annoying friend you were hiding from?"

"What gave it away?" She asked ironically.

"The vicious kneeing you delivered was quite the hint. Not that I wouldn't have done the same in your place. Some people seem to understand only through pain. It's such a bother."

"You know, I'm standing right here," Archibald replied.

"Like you'd let us forget about it," Stephanie said with sarcasm. Archibald let the tears run freely from his eyes but said nothing more. There is just so much pain a guy can take in a certain amount of time before he just shuts up and starts sulking.

The rest of the trip was uneventful and Archibald joined the conversation once his brain managed to put aside the pain of rejection. It turned out that his father owned a renown Potion laboratory that employed several potioneers while Stephanie parents worked both for the Ministry. She didn't say exactly what they did but Harry got the impression that they were somewhat important in the high circles even if their names were not know to him. Either Stephanie exaggerated with her parents' work description or they worked for a branch of the Ministry that didn't advertise his members, namely the Unspeakables. In Harry's opinion she was too direct and honest to embellish her words without having anything to gain out of it.

Soon it was time to change in her uniform and both boys left the compartment to leave Stephanie enough privacy to undress.

"So," began Harry, "you're in love with Stephanie or you are just trying to annoy her?"

"Hm? Oh yeah. I've liked her since before I knew what it meant to like somebody. We have been together since we were in diapers and I honestly couldn't picture myself being with anybody else."

"That kind of commitment sounds odd coming from an eleven year old," Harry said flatly. Archibald simply shrugged.

"It's not like I'm trying to fit any given standard. I'm an oddball. Always been, always will be. Got a problem with that?"

Harry chuckled. "Not at all Archie. I think I like that. In fact it's quite the same for me."

"What do you mean?" The other boy asked, his curiosity piqued.

"I'm the brother of the Boy-Who-Lived, Archie. I don't hate or envy my brother or anything like that, but I'm not going to let that be all I'll ever amount to. I don't know what people expect of me besides the obvious and I don't care. I'm going to write my own legend with these hands and show everyone that I'm not just a secondary character in someone else's story."

Archie whistled appreciatively. "Wow. That kind of commitment sound strange coming from an eleven year old," Archie said mocking his previous statement.

"What can I say? I'm an oddball. Got a problem with that?" Harry paid back in kind. They both broke down laughing and they were still holding their stomach when Stephanie opened the door.

"Great. You're bonding. Now you are going to stalk me like he does," she commented.

"Nah. Doesn't look he'd enjoy the competition and I have no interest in a girl so talented in crushing a man's private. I do have some sense of preservation."

"Thank Merlin for small mercies. Come on you two, get changed. We are going to arrive in a few minutes."

"Gotcha boss," They said in unison. Stephanie rolled her eyes at their antics but smiled nonetheless.

And just like the first threads of a friendship that would withstand legendary challenges began forming. Neither Archibald nor Stephanie knew what they had signed for when they had first spoken to Harry that day and neither of them would come to regret it in the following years.

It was the beginning a new story. A story about those not chosen by fate, the story of those who would shake the foundation of the Wizarding World and show that there is no destiny greater than one made by one's own hands. It was the story of the Unchosen.

* * *

**Author Notes:**

A response to CombatWars challenge. Please note that everything related to Harry Potter doesn't belong to me but to J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros Picture if I'm not mistaken. Let it be know that I accepted this challenge for the pleasure of writing and not for CombatWars' "prize"

I originally intended to publish this story on October 31 as per CombatWars challenge but it nagged me to be published so… Anyway I will update with two weeks from today as per issued challenge. From them onward is all fair game. I'm working steadily to my Rise of the Forgotten and I don't plan to let it get old. I'm trying to keep up the pace with around 5K words per week with that story and I have no intention to fall behind.

So… even if already have other Fics running I stumbled into a challenge I couldn't ignore and here we are. I always wanted to write a Harry x Fleur fic and while I don't yet know if this is going to be strictly a HarryxFleur of a HarryxFleurxHermionexDaphne I'm happy anyway. In this fic Harry is around 2 years older than canon. His birthday is somewhere around the middle of September (so that he will be of age in time to put his name in the Goblet of Fire).

The only difference from the challenge is that Harry is two year older than canon and will (maybe) hook up with both Hermione and Daphne at the same time (even if they are younger).

This story is mildly inspired by the legendary and and abandoned "Knowledge is Power" but only in the characters of Archibald and Stephanie. Theor background story is not the same, just so you know.

That's all for now.

Till next time.


	2. Sorting

**Chapter 2 – Sorting**

* * *

Lily Potter nee Evans lay in her bed, beside her husband, both wide awake. The day had been a tiresome one. With both their jobs at the ministry they always had very little time to spend at home and with their family, furthermore whatever time they managed to spare was spent with their younger son, Alex and with all the media circus rotating around the fall of Voldemort.

In all honesty Lily knew that she couldn't have handled half of it if her eldest son hadn't helped as much as he did. Harry, with his eleven years on his back, shouldered his duties as bigger brother and Heir to the House in a way that commendable didn't quite describe. His parents quickly got used to rely on him to take care of his younger brother while they dealt with their jobs and the Boy-Who-Lived nonsense.

Yet, while Harry succeeded as a son in an exemplary manner, the same couldn't be told about his parents; and that knowledge was keeping the read haired witch awake.

"James," she mumbled, "do you think we are bad parents?"

"…. Are you thinking about Harry?" he asked back with turning to look at her.

"Yes. We keep failing him over and over again. We couldn't even see him off this morning. By the time we got back home he had already packed and flooed to the platform."

"He also prepared breakfast for us before leaving…" James whispered back.

"He is… such a wonderful boy… *sniff* but we…"

"I know…. I know Lily. If he hadn't helped us as he did over the years I don't think we could have handled everything as well as we did."

"Did we really? Done things well I mean."

"Lily what we've done, what we are still doing is to create a world were out children can live happy with having to worry about people like Lucius Malfoy and the other Death Eaters. We are doing this for their sake."

"I know… I know but…" she hesitated. "When was the last time you stopped and spoke to him about something that wasn't his brother or something that had to be taken care of around the house?"

"I… I… I can't remember," James admitted. The sound of defeat in his voice mirrored Lily guilt laced ones.

"Me neither. Oh, James how can we claim that we are trying to make things better for our family when we can't even spare the time to sit and talk with our children? He must hate us by now."

"I… I don't think he does, Lily," James said, but for some reason his voice sounded even sadder than if his son actually hated him.

"…. Maybe he doesn't… But do you think he loves us? Did we ever give him a reason to?"

"We… we did our best, Lily. We never spared ourselves. You know it."

"… I know. But was it enough, James?"

"… We'll make it up to him, Lily,"

"When?" She sobbed. "When are we supposed to do that? Now that he's gone for nine months a year for the next seven years? We almost don't know anything about him and we live under the same roof. Who will he be we he returns for the holydays? Will we have time to find out?"

"I… I'll write him every day...," he tried to say but he was cut off by his wife throwing herself in his arms, looking for solace.

"Liar. You know that with him gone we'll have to look after Alex even more. We'll have even less time than before."

"Lily…."

"We failed James… we failed and we are too late to make a difference now. Whoever he will become… whatever sort of person that kind, sweet boy will turn into… it won't have anything to do with us. We… we lost him…"

"Don't say that, love," he tried to reassure her. "He knows that we love him. I'm sure that if we try we'll manage to reconnect with him."

"I hope so, James… but I can't bring myself to believe it…"

They didn't say anything else. Words were useless at that point. She contented herself with the warmth coming from his husband in a hopeless attempted to ward her heart from the coldness that crept inside her. Her thoughts run again to his child, far, far away from home, in a dark old castle. Would he make friends with the other students? Would he enjoy classes? What house would he be sorted into?

* * *

"RAVENCLAW!" the Sorting hat shouted. It didn't take him more than a minute for the old rag to decide where to put the raven haired teen. While the boy possessed, like most children, traits from all houses his passion for books and thirst for knowledge clearly directed him to that particular house.

He quickly walked to his table where is new housemates welcomed him with a warm applause. He was pleased that when his name had been called up no one associated him with the Boy-Who-Lived. It wasn't a well known fact that the Vanquisher of Voldemort had an older brother. Perhaps later some would start wondering but for the time being he was content with not being labeled as an accessory to his brother legend. It was quite a good start in his opinion.

The girl he had met on the train, Stephanie Chambers, was sorted in Slytherin just like she had predicted. The other boy, Archibald Rowels was stepping up in that very moment to be sorted as well. The hat wasn't on his head even five seconds when it shouted…

"RAVENCLAW!"

Archibald stood up and began running toward… the Slytherin table, no doubt to rejoin his unrequited crush.

"Mr. Rowles," the Deputy Headmistress and Transfiguration professor Minerva McGonagall shouted. "Your table is that one," she pointed to the Raven claws. The Great Hall shared a chuckle at Archie's expenses, while the boy reluctantly strutted to his table, shooting kicked-puppy-like glances to the girl who had been sorted in the wrong House. Namely not his own.

"Damn!" he swore as he sat beside Harry.

"Nice try, mate. Next time though, try to have the Hat sort you into her house instead of sneaking there the very first night."

"I wanted to but the as soon as it was on my head it just said 'She told me not to send the stalker after her,' before sending me here. Blasted rag!"

"He does have to take in account the student's preference but he also has to uphold their safety," Harry explained. "I guess that whatever plan for Stephanie you had in your mind must have scared him enough to skip your opinion altogether."

"I have no idea what you are talking about," Archie protested, but he was betrayed by his own blush. That obvious show of emotion wouldn't have helped him in Slytherin if the House rep was to be believed.

"Bright side, you are in the House of the intelligent, now. Perhaps she will see you in a new light. Nah. But if you keep your grade high enough you might offer her some… private lessons…"

Harry mild innuendo was enough to send Archie's mind to its happy place and the boy didn't fuss anymore about his placement.

The sorting proceed without further… incidents and after a few ritual words, which didn't make quite sense, from the Headmaster the students enjoyed their first meal at Hogwarts.

All sorts of food where present and Harry was delighted to see is favorite sweet among them: treacle tart. He couldn't help but enjoy a few servings of the sweet delicacy.

After the feast was over they were led to the tower were the Ravenclaw dorm was. Differently from the other Houses their dorm couldn't be accessed with a password but by answering correctly to a riddle. A show of intelligence and a hindrance if you were in any sort of hurry. Noting that Harry vowed to be ready for anything the following day of classes could throw at them so that he wouldn't have to return there in a hurry. He was confident with his own intelligence but he wasn't about to challenge it when it wasn't needed.

On the other hand their dorm had another difference from the others. Its common room was a library itself, filled by tomes that couldn't be found in the school library. Harry licked his lips in anticipation. The kind of things he could learn from those books that weren't in the standard curriculum he could only imagine. Alas he couldn't spend the night reading since the train ride, the sorting ceremony and the feast took their toll. His young mind was clouding already and the thought of the bed was quite endearing at that point.

The rooms in Ravenclaw housed no more than two students, a forced requirement for those who wanted to study in a tranquil environment but without cutting themselves completely out of every social interaction. Harry was glad of this since he was more than capable of losing his sense of time if he was particularly engrossed by a book.

Much to his surprise, and chagrin, Archibald was his roommate. Harry reflected that, knowing the other boy, perhaps he had just lost the calm study environment in favor of a more chaotic but amusing one.

He wasn't quite sure if he had gained of lost something but he would soon find out.

With all said and done they slipped under the covers of their four post beds and promptly fell asleep.

He had a long interesting day coming next and Harry wanted to be at his very best in order to become the best student to ever walk the halls of Hogwarts.

* * *

Morning came too soon and yet not soon enough. Harry slipped outside of his bed to get ready for the day. For once he forfeited his morning run in favor of preparing for the new day. The castle was huge and until he was confident that he could navigate its corridor without getting lost he would make sure to be ready with an ample margin before setting foot out of his dorm.

Archie was still sleeping, soundly seeing how the boy could produce quite a racket with his snore. Luckily Harry was a heavy sleeper otherwise he would have caught very little rest the previous night.

"Oi, wake up stalker. Its morning already," he shook him.

"Hmm… five more minutes," he mumbled.

"Suit yourself," Harry shrugged before turning back to prepare his bag. He slipped out of his room and into the common room while Archie kept sleeping. There were already plenty of other students up and about, reading or preparing for the coming day. There was a boy about to leave the dorm and Harry joined him quickly.

"Hey," he shouted and the boy stopped and waited for him. "Good morning. Are you heading to breakfast? Oh, I'm Harry Potter."

"Michael Brooke," he shook his hand "and yes, that were I'm headed. Would you like to join me?"

"Sure. You are a second year, aren't you?"

"Right. So how's Hogwarts treating you so far?" Michael asked.

"It's great. The castle is wonderful, the food is great and don't get me started on the books in the common room. I just had the chance to glance at a few titles and I already have to make a priority list of what to read first."

Michael chuckled in response. "I hear you mate. When we found out that I was a wizard I was scared out of my wits and even a little scared of being away from home for nine months, but now…" The look of wonder in his eyes spoke volumes.

"Oh. Well, my parents are both magical so I didn't have the same problem but I can see how it would trouble a Muggleborn. Are you doing fine on this side? People are treating you well?"

"As much as it could be expected. Most people are fine but there are a few stuck up gits… Nevermind. Racism it's still problem for the Muggles too."

"True," Harry commented. "Hey, what book would you recommend I should read first?" Harry asked moving the conversation to nicer topics.

"Hmm… Well since our Head of House is the Charm Professor…"

They discussed books and spell all the way to the Great Hall where they parted ways. Michael joined his year mates and Harry somewhere further down the table.

He began eating while his eyes explored his surroundings.

It was still rather early and there were very few people already awake, most from his House and from Slytherin.

The staff table on the other hand was rather filled. It looked like that organizing the day of classes required an early start. Harry gaze lingered on his professors.

Minerva McGonagall, the stern looking professor he had met the previous evening was a known face. His father warned him about crossing her and explained that she was tough but fair.

Charity Burbage the Muggle Studies professor was a round little woman who his mother often referred as a joke, since she didn't know the first thing about Muggles or their achievement in the past sixty years.

Septima Vector, the young and alluring Arithmancy professor that Padfoot used to rant about all the time. She was a student when the Marauders walked those same halls and Ms. Vector was one of the few failed targets of his Godfather failed charm. He looked forward to see what the witch that kept Sirius at bay could teach him.

She was chatting animatedly with the Divination professor Sibyl Trelawney. Harry narrowed her eyes at her. He knew by overhearing his parents speaking that she was the one giving the prophecy that pushed Voldemort after his family. The old bat wasn't responsible neither for giving the prophecy nor for Voldemort's actions but he couldn't help but dislike her regardless of that.

Beside her was Quirinus Quirell, his DaDA professor. He knew very little about the man, save for the fact that he had a very thorough knowledge of the subject he taught. He was talking with the Potion professor Severus Snape.

Snivellius, as his father called him was a supposedly reformed Death Eater, turned spy for the Order of the Phoenix while the war was still in Voldemort's favor, that is to say until his own killing curse rebounded on him. He didn't have a clear opinion on the man at that point. He had been a follower of the Dark Lord at one point, yet he willingly switched sides in a moment that could be considered untimingly at that point in time. Whether the man could be considered good or bad remained to be seen.

His father and his friends had a clear opinion on the man, which was to say 'hex him without warning' but they were know to be wrong about people allegiances from time to time. Peter Pettigrew was one of such instances.

The man turned his gaze from his colleague to meet Harry's, and for a tiniest fraction of a moment something passed through those hard schooled features of his. Something akin to guilt or perhaps regret but it was gone too fast for him to discern it properly. His gaze drifted away and didn't return, leaving a curious teen in its wake.

Harry didn't know what that meant but he was sure it meant something. He was too smart to miss the signals. Perhaps it was to do with Snape's lost friendship with Harry's mother, perhaps with Voldemort demise. Harry didn't know but he would make sure to keep a close eye on the man. Reformed or not having a Death Eater attention was a good reason to watch his back while walking down the empty corridors of the castle.

"Good morning, git," Archibald greeted as he sat beside him. Harry arched an eyebrow at his colorful choice of words as he turned to look at his new friend.

"Not that I'd want to discuss the truth of your statement, but what exactly prompted you to call me by that particular appellative?" he asked.

"You didn't wait for me to get up. I almost overslept and missed breakfast," he whined.

"What am I? Your mother? If you count on me to wake you up in the morning you've got another thing coming."

"But…"

"Oh, look! Stephanie," he pointed to the Slytherin table. Like a Pavlovian reaction the boy head snapped almost 180 degree backward to search for his intended target. Once spotted, the boy practically glided toward the girl of his dreams.

Harry didn't waste any time in following the exchange since he could easily predict the outcome. A moment later a grunt of pain preceded the physical wince of every boy that was looking in that general direction. Even a few teachers seemed to react in the same fashion and perhaps someone was about to reprimand the girl but soon enough the boy was back on his feet seemingly unfazed. A few words were exchanged at the boy was sent back whence he came from.

"She sent me awayyyyy," he whined as he sat back near Harry.

"I can't begin to fathom why she would," he said ironically.

"Really?"

"No. In fact I'm quite sure it has to do with the fact that you are rather bothersome and childish, you whine constantly and apparently you can't even get up in the morning by yourself. But then again that's just my opinion."

"Y-y-you have no proof of that!" Archie tried to defend himself.

"No, no I don't. In fact I wouldn't know the first girl about girls. It wasn't my arm she was draped to when you joined us on the train, was it?" He finished his breakfast and stood up, leaving behind a shell shocked boy with tears streaming down his eyes in a comical fashion.

He reached one of his house prefects and that was giving the schedule to the other first years. Charms was going to be their first lesson and would also work as introduction to Hogwarts since their Head of House was the Charm Professor. Harry couldn't wait but to begin learning from the fabled duelist Filius Flitwick.

* * *

Author Note:

Here the promised update. I don't know when the next one will be, probably not anytime soon. I'm working on ideas for my other HP fic and this is a secondary work. I need to come up with a plot damn it. I have a few vague points for this story but I have to string them together.

Anyway i could you some help for you readers. I'm in need of secondary characters for my stories. If you feel like it send me a small profile via PM of a character ot your choosing and I might use it in my story. Seriously it helps save time in writing.

Well that's everything for the time being. Keep in touch for more.


End file.
